What the Heart Truly Desires
by Pink Bismuth
Summary: The Mirror of Erised says, "I show not your face but your heart's desire." This story tells of what the hearts of Severus Snape, Nymphadora Tonks, Bellatrix Lestrange, Draco Malfoy, and Fred Weasley all desire and how they respond when facing them.
1. What Does the Heart Desire?

**Disclaimer:****I do not own Harry Potter This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling****, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.**** I did however take quotes from "Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone" and obviously Rowling owns that.**

**Authors Note: This story is a sort of individual encounters with the Mirror of Erised that all connect in the end. Constructive criticism is also very much appreciated. Oh and I'm writing this in response to MarauderMadnessMwahaha's** **Mirror of Erised Challenge, this is just a short introductory chapter, and _all the quotes, which are italicized, are from Albus Dumbldore. (though anyone that's read harry potter would of course know that but what ever…)_****, there now I think I have nothing more to note on.**

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**"What The Heart Truly Desires"**

_by Pinkbismuth_

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**Intro

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**"What the Heart Truly Desires"**

**Erised stra ehru oyt ube cafru oyt on wohsi**

_"This mirror will give us neither knowledge nor truth"_

It shows us what we truly desire and from that we may gain knowledge.

_"Men have wasted away before it, entranced by what they have seen or been driven mad, not knowing if what it shows is real or even possible"_

Of those who wasted away before it...

Those who were entranced knew it was not real but that it may be possible.

Those who were driven mad believed that it was neither.

_"The happiest man on earth would be able to use the mirror of erised like a normal mirror, that is he would look into it and see himself exactly as he is."_

But what makes him happy?

_"It shows us nothing more or less than the deepest, most desperate desire of our hearts."_

The question however, is, what do our heart's desire?

**I show not your face but your heart's desire**


	2. The Heart of Severus Snape

**Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or any of the characters. They belong to J. K. Rowling (and I hate her for it). I did however take a quote from "Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone" and "Harry Potter and The Goblet of Fire" and obviously she owns them.**

**Authors Note:**_ All the quotes are from Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone said by Albus Dumbledore. (though anyone that's read Harry Potter would of course know that but what ever…)_

_Oh and in case I neglected to mention it previously the the events in this story are sort of like missing moments in canon, or at least I attempted to make it so the things that happen in this story could have reasonably fit into the books.  
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**"What The Heart Truly Desires"**

_By Pink Bismuth_

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**The Heart of Severus Snape**

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**_"This mirror will give us neither knowledge nor truth"_**

It was a day like any other in the dreary life of Hogwarts Potions Master, Professor Severus Snape. That tyrannical toad Umbridge had summoned him for the umpteenth time, for Merlin only knew what. This had, understandably, left him in quite an irritated state as he rushed to her office.

Why she assumed he sympathized with her was quite beyond him. It couldn't possibly be because of their similar hate for the Boy-Who-Lived. Or that quite a few of his Slytherins were on her inquisitorial squad, or even that the majority of the Hogwarts populace wholly despised them both.

No that would be ridiculous! He refused to admit he had anything in common with that horrible woman! And yet a small voice in the back of his mind, one that sounded suspiciously like Lilly would vocalize his doubts in a very unkind and decidedly un-Lilly like fashion.

'You are rather similar aren't you?' mused the un-Lilly unpleasantly.

'No, no I am not.' he argued for what seemed like the millionth time. Indeed, he'd had this conversation with himself before and it was becoming rather maddening. Although in all fairness, talking to the voice in one's head could be considered rather mad.

'You both can be rather cruel to your students,' argued the voice.

'How can you compare me to her! I don't use blood quills.' he defended.

'No you just allow someone else to.'

'I can't do anything about it, Albus needs me to stay here and keep my head down!' was his almost pleading response.

'Sure,' she answered, in a voice that clearly stated her disbelief. 'You know I'm pretty sure Umbridge was a Slytherin,' she added on in a sly manner which rather worried Severus.

'So, what's your point?' he demanded hoping this line of reasoning wasn't going where he thought it was going. Sadly the Lilly in his mind was just as intelligent as the Lilly of his childhood, with a penchant for Slytherin cunning; it made for a very dangerous combination.

'Just that Umbridge is a Slytherin. Her inquisitorial squad is made of Slytherins. Voldemort is a Slytherin and you, yourself are a _Slytherin_. Do you see a reoccurring theme here?' she replied in a devious, supercilious, amused sort of tone that never would have escaped the real Lilly Evans's lips.

"Enough!" he shouted aloud in an attempt to banish these awful thoughts.

Unfortunately, this terrified a poor first year Ravenclaw who was making her way to class. She nearly jumped out of her skin, dropping her books, scattering papers all over the hall.

Infuriated with himself, he completely forgot all about going to Umbridge. He was instead going to terrorize the poor student further, hoping alleviate his rage when he saw one of the Weasley twins rushing away in a suspicious manner and so decided to follow him instead.

Turning the corner, he saw the red head rush through a door he didn't recognized. He waited outside for a bit, hoping to catch the weasel in the act of whatever it was he was up to. Of course, there could be no doubt that when it came to those twin terrors something was definitely up.

Finally, he entered the room; it was bizarre to say the least.

He was standing in a room the size of a large cathedral; the windows were high up and sending streams of light down upon what looked like a city with towering walls. They were built of all sorts of indiscriminate, objects that must have once belonged to many generations of Hogwarts inhabitants. There were alleyways and roads bordered by teetering piles of broken and damaged furniture. There were thousands and thousands of books; no doubt banned, graffiti covered, or stolen and would obviously never again be considered library respectable. There were chipped bottles of congealed potions, hats, jewels, and cloaks, several rusting swords, and a heavy, bloodstained axe. It was quite the bizarre and random assortment of item and nothing appeared to be in any particular order.

He was so shocked by all that he saw that the original design of "Get the Weasley!" was momentarily discarded.

'How have I never seen this room before?' he asked himself, staggered by the shear mass of junk.

He surveyed the impressive clutter of the room in awe. It was while he was turning to fully view his surroundings that his eyes narrowed in on a cognizant shade of emerald green.

"Pot-" he started but his breath caught in his throat as he turned completely.

It was not the evil James Potter clone who dared to inherited Lilly Evans's eyes, but a sight that brought many unshed tears to his own. There reflecting back at him through a mirror was himself and the titian haired, incandescently green-eyed vision of Lilly Evans standing next to him.

The mirror itself was gigantic, it had an ornate gold frame, clawed feet, and the words "Erised stra ehru oyt ube cafru oyt on wohsi" inscribed at the top; however he saw none of this as he had eyes only for the view it provided.

As he drew nearer his heart cracked, splintered, and burst with each step he took. He placed a hand on the glass as though seeing if he could somehow slip through it.

The mirror couple joyfully waved at him. His mirror self had an arm around Lilly and both had an air of intoxicatingly content and glowing happiness about them. They both couldn't have been older than fifteen, wearing Hogwart's uniforms and both of their ties were red and gold. They were both Gryffindors!

Something Albus had said the year before repeated itself in his mind.

_"You know, I sometimes think we sort too soon..."_

A single tear fell down his face.

He felt, much like other past viewers of the mirror a powerful kind of ache inside him. Half joy at the site, half terrible sadness at the impossibility and like many others before him time wiled away as he stared entranced by what he saw. How long he stood there, he didn't know, didn't really care. He was however, brought back to reality with a jolt by a sudden noise behind him.

Looking around for the source, feeling distinctly disoriented, he then remembered why he had came there in the first place. He was about to find and punish the prankster he'd been following, but then he took another glance at his Gryffindor reflection who was grinning mischievously back at him. Suddenly an amusing idea popped into his head. A rare smile tugged at the corners of his mouth and with that, the Slytherin Head of House turned around, and swept to the exit.

He had started to turn the handle and open the door but paused. He then exclaimed rather loudly, yet supposedly to himself, "I do hope no one takes advantage of the fact that Headmistress Umbridge will be thoroughly distracted for the next hour or so and pulls off some sort of prank in light of this distraction."

And with that he left the room in which hid a rather stunned Fred Weasley.

**It shows us what we truly desire and from that we may gain knowledge.**

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**Thanks to anyone who might review! In the next chapter the viewer of the mirror will be Nymphadora Tonks.**


	3. The Heart of Nymphadora Tonks

**Disclaimer:**** I do not own Harry Potter or any of the characters. They belong to J. K. Rowling (and I hate her for it). I did however take a quote from "Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone" and obviously, she owns it.**

**Authors Note: **_I forgot to mention it before but this story is a sort of individual encounters with the Mirror of Erised that all end up sort of connected in the end, just in case anyone gets confused about the jump from the book 5 to book 6 and from Snape to Tonks._

_The quote (in the first sentence) is from Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone said by Albus Dumbldore. (Though anyone that's read Harry Potter would of course know that but whatever…)_

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**"What the Heart Truly Desires"**

By Pink Bismuth

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**The Heart of Nymphadora Tonks**

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**_"Men have wasted away before it, entranced by what they have seen or been driven mad, not knowing if what it shows is real or even possible"_****_  
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**Of those who have wasted away before it…**

The loud slapping of fast footsteps could be heard echoing off the dark and hallowed halls of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, despite or rather due to the late hour. One set of footsteps were those of retreat, the other were those of pursuit. The pursuer in question was one Nymphadora Tonks, also known as Auror Tonks, or as she would prefer just Tonks (for she'd readily hex any who would dare call her Nymphadora).

That night she was, not for the first time and most certainly not for the last cursing her clumsiness, as this had been what changed a simple patrol into an outright chase. To further explain this whole occurrence one need only back track mere moments before.

She had, on Dumbledore's orders been patrolling the school during his absence, precisely what the Headmaster was doing at so late an hour she hardly knew. So it was of course what she was musing over while patrolling that night.

Now she'll be the first to admit that it really wasn't her business what Dumbledore did during his nighttime excursions but part of being a good Auror is being naturally and insatiably inquisitive. And Tonks was, if anything, a very good Auror.

Her hair, which as of late had been a dull, mousy brown, had betrayed her metamorphmagus ability as she became lost in concentration. It continuously changed colors in representation of her thoughts/ Most noticeable was the bright yellow shade it took when a specific idea came to her as though a light bulb had gone off inside her head.

Currently she was reviewing the facts. A few things she knew were that it was top secret so that even the Order were kept in the dark, the ministry wanted to know where he kept going, and that he often came back rather tired and even a little frustrated. To Tonks that last fact was the most alarming part of it all. He had the kind of frustration about him that said he was doing something very important and somehow running out of time.

"But that's ridiculous!" she mentally cried "I'm just being paranoid! It's just my inner Moody talking," she assured herself.

She was sure she was just being stupid and yet…

She knew she was being crazy but tonight she had bumped into him before making it to his office and apparently, this had caught him off guard.

For a fleeting moment she could have sworn she saw a panicked, anxiety riddled look on his face as though terrified he was making a mistake. It was as if he was one of those performers at the circus, who juggled flaming pins, and suddenly he'd lost control and the pins were descending upon him, frozen as he watched them crash and burn. It was an awful site to see so instinctively she looked away only to look back and see no trace of it whatsoever leaving her absolutely confused about what any of this meant or of what she even saw.

Tonks didn't often doubt her own observation skills when it came to reading people. This was because she was, as was mentioned, a metamorphmagus. As someone once pointed out to her, this made her very aware of the shifting of others facial expressions and body language, after all, you just can't change your features as much as she did without noticing when others did it as well.

However she quit debating whether she was reading Dumbledore right or not as this line of thinking invariably reminded her of the previously mentioned informative someone who pointed out this awareness of hers.

It was someone she couldn't read at all, someone who always gave off mixed messages that all her abilities couldn't help her decipher. This particular someone was the same someone who was responsible for the dull brown shade that had become her "autopilot" hair. The reason she was so downtrodden, the meaning behind her patronus, this particular someone was Remus J. Lupin and it hurt very much to think of him.

But now it was too late her "autopilot" hair was back, thoughts of Dumbledore all but extinguished, she had Moony on the mind. Therefore, her thoughts turned down the depressing avenue that was broken dreams and love thwarted by noble, over protective, gits with low self-worth and the poor girls who fall in love with them. She was suddenly brought out of her sad stupor however by the noise of soft footfalls nearby.

It was 2:00 am so of course students should not be up and about. She quickly threw herself into the shadows and behind a suit of armor, it was an Auror's first instinct to hide and assess the situation before acting. The student stepped into the hall and it was no other then Draco Malfoy. Her eyes narrowed in suspicion Arthur had mentioned Harry's theory about the young Malfoy and this situation was not making him look very innocent, especially with the tell tale nervousness that seemed to radiate off him.

He was halfway down the hall and she was about to disillusion herself and follow when she bumped her arm, none too gently, into the suit of armor she was hiding behind, causing it to wobble dangerously. She quickly tried to grab it but only caught hold of one arm, accidentally jostling the whole suit when grabbing hold of it. With a resounding crash, the rest fell to the ground making enough noise to wake half the castle she was quite sure.

Angry with her own clumsiness, she did what many do when they are angry; she kicked something. In this case, it was the very heavy, very solid, metal helmet of the fallen armor with a sneaker-laden foot and well… it hurt very, very much!

"Son of a-" She started on, what surely would have been quite a colorful rant; the contents of which would have undoubtedly contained all the expletives of the English language, quite a few from foreign languages and at least one in Mermish. She was cut short however as she saw Malfoy making a run for it. And so she saved that for later, knowing somewhere in the back of her mind that the rant in question would have made her fellow Aurors proud.

Tonks wasn't entirely sure as to why she was following him. Yes, she was on patrol but somehow it seemed unlikely that she was expected to put wayward students on late night strolls to bed, especially considering she used to be one of those wayward students. No, she was more likely supposed to be a security measure for outside threats (Dumbledore never really specified why she was patrolling exactly). Nevertheless he seemed to be acting suspicious and for all she knew his activities could be dangerous, if Harry's opinion of him had any validity at all. So the chase began.

For a minute she lost him and then she had to make a choice.

"Did he go around the other corner or did he go into that room?" she questioned. She then did a double take, her eyebrows furrowed. "Wait where did that room come from?" she asked herself confusedly.

She had passed through this hall once tonight and that most certainly was not there before! This basically made the decision for her. She marched on over and whipped the door open, wand at the ready, what she saw made her gasp in surprise.

She was standing in a room the size of a large cathedral, the windows were high up, and it was very dark. What looked like a city with towering walls, built of all sorts of indiscriminate, objects was made indistinct by the darkness. Clearly it was quite messy, cluttered, and just all around disarrayed. There appeared to be shadowy alleyways and roads bordered by teetering piles of things, just things everywhere objects of all sorts.

With the light of her wand and the streams of moon light shining through the windows she could distinguish thousands and thousands of books, bottles, hats, jewels, cloaks, several swords, and broken furniture. The item filled room was bizarre, random, and didn't appear to be in any particular order. She was instantly reminded of her father and the state he left their house in on the rare occasions that her mother had neglected to clean up after him.

She crept inside the room as she made her way through the clutter searching for Malfoy, continuously asking herself how she had never found this room before.

Half way down the first alleyway, she heard a rustle to her right, she started turning but stopped short as her wand light reflected off a large, gold framed, mirror momentarily blinding her. She looked up at the top and spied the words…

"Erised stra ehru oyt ube cafru oyt on wohsi"

"What on earth does that mean?" she wondered. But before she could even properly think about deciphering the meaning of those words, she caught movement in the mirror. Her eyes widened in shock and she gasped in surprise.

"Remus?" She whispered looking around expecting to see the real thing except he wasn't there. She looked back in the mirror and there he was standing right beside her. What was going on?

"Great!" she thought, "I've finally gone insane, I have reached a new level of love sick, next stop Saint Mungos!" she thought in sarcastic exasperation.

It was at the end of that happy thought that she huffily made to flip a stand of hair out of her face and noticed said hair was brown. Normally discovering that your hair is brown is not an earth shattering revelation however in this case it was really quite shocking as her reflection had her favorite bubble gum pink hair. What's more, now that she was paying closer attention she saw that Remus looked his age as if the years of grief, war, and lycanthropy just melted away and they were both smiling that dopey love smile that deliriously happy couples wear to annoy everyone else and holding hands.

"What in the name of Merlin…," she trailed off as tears sprung to her eyes.

She wanted it so badly. To love and be loved and be deliriously happy and the mirror Tonks had that so why couldn't she! She was filled with a powerful ache inside half joy at what she saw and half terrible sadness for what she didn't have. How much time she wasted away staring at the happy couple she couldn't say but suddenly the voice of Mad Eye Moody rang out loudly in her mind…

"CONSTANT VIGILANCE!"

Then just like that, she was snapped out of her trance. Backing away from the mirror she felt unnerved, yet empowered, and utterly determined.

"Remus J. Lupin will someday marry me! He will wear a dopey grin and we will be deliriously happy!" she shouted out, changing her hair to a defiant shade of bubble gum pink. Stomping out of the room, forgetting completely about what she had originally been doing until at least an hour later, she left behind a thoroughly bewildered Draco Malfoy.

**Those who are entranced know that it's not real but that it may be possible.**

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**Thanks to all who read and double thanks to those who review! The next Viewer of the mirror is Bellatrix Lestrange.**


	4. The Heart of Bellatrix Lestrange

**Disclaimer:**** I do not own Harry Potter This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended. I did however take quotes from "Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone" and obviously, Rowling owns that.**

**_Authors Note:_******_Well here it is another chapter, Sorry if it's out of character, I just can't seem to get a good grip on Bellatrix. I decided I didn't want her to see something obvious like Voldemort being affectionate toward her or something like that and so came up with something else. There's a flash back in this chapter, it's in italics, since I figure writing "Flash Back" in the middle of the story would detract from the mood.  
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**"What the Heart Truly Desires"**

_By Pink Bismuth_

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**The Heart of Bellatrix Lestrange**

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**"Men have wasted away before it, entranced by what they have seen or been driven mad, not knowing if what it shows is real or even possible."**

**Of those who have wasted away before it...**

Inside a magical room, inside a magical school, there occupied a deceptively magical cabinet. It sat seemingly harmless, placed amongst the indiscriminate objects that filled the room known to a few Hogwarts inhabitants as "The Room of Requirement". What the users of said cabinet required of this particular room was a place to keep hidden their endeavors to enter the magical school via vanishing cabinet to carry out a most nefarious plot.

The room was dark only illuminated by beams of moon light shining through the elevated windows of the large, cathedral sized room and it's towering city of rubbish. All was quiet and still in the unoccupied area with the exception of an occasional Fanged Frisbee attempting, halfheartedly to hover once more.

Then the silence was shattered by a sudden **"BANG!"** as the door of the recently repaired vanishing cabinet was thrown open with a dramatic flourish and out stepped Bellatrix Lestrange.

She sauntered out as though she traveled through vanishing cabinets everyday and found them quite mundane. Bellatrix then paced about the room. She paused only to shoot her fellow Death Eater's disapproving looks as they either came through the cabinet as well or attempted to catch their bearings from such a form of travel, the likes of which can be very disorienting.

Said companions watched her as her pacing became an excited sort of skip, face alight with a frighteningly manic smile, as they contemplated her apparent change in attitude. They were however far too used to her sporadic mood swings to be at all surprised or alarmed by the odd behavior. Lestrange would often go from disdainful pureblood condemning the world as tedious to deranged convict who took the utmost delight in "playing" with whatever hapless victim she happened to come across. A constant habit in either persona was the ever looking over her shoulder as though paranoid of attack and the inaudible muttering to herself. Azkaban was not kind to Bellatrix Lestrange.

As the invading group of Death Eaters finally settled down to go over their plans before setting out they simply ignored Bellatrix, they knew she'd be listening even if she didn't join the meeting.

It was due to that thought that no one noticed when suddenly she stopped dead in her tracks eyes narrowed, as she raised her wand only to slowly lower it and then drop it all together! It was nearly unheard of for anything less than a well-aimed Expelliarmus to accomplish such a feat. They undoubtedly would have been stunned and bewildered by such an occurrence.

Had they been watching they would have been even more confused seeing her face contort from suspicion, to confusion, to shocked disbelief as she peered into a mirror partiality concealed by the scattered debris of the room.

Bellatrix stared at the reflective glass seeing not her reflection but a portrait. A portrait she instantly recognized, one she would never forget, one that had haunted a number of her dreams at night in Azkaban, except it wasn't the same.

'She's still there,' was the tremulous thought that echoed repeatedly though her mind.

She hungrily traced the golden thread of the tree, reading the words at the top.

**"The Noble and Most Ancient House of Black"**

**Toujours pur**

Her eyes constantly flickered back to one specific picture, one specific name that hadn't been there in so many years, not since it was blasted off.

"Andromeda," she wordlessly mouthed.

Tears sprang to her eyes but she did not cry. 'Those of the Black family do not cry' her mother's imperious voice reminded her.

She gazed on mesmerized by the sight of all three sister's pictures together again on the family portrait. Bella, Andy, and Cissy. That's who they were before Andromeda betrayed them.

'Betrayed…' the word reverberated painfully through her head.

Bella's sister Andy had married a muggleborn. To the Black family entering into such a union was of the highest disgrace and betrayal. It was especially so during that time as Voldemort was gathering power, a war was approaching, and such a marriage would put her on the other side, the wrong side. It had been painful to see her sister make such a foolish mistake, but even more awful was that she had chose to become her enemy, to choose_ him_ over_ her_.

'That's right' Bellatrix scathingly reminded herself, 'She turned traitor for a filthy Mudblood and a Hufflepuff no less!'

Suddenly the sadness turned into rage as she recounted the betrayal and hurt she felt at her sister's abandonment.

'Have she no shame?' her mind screeched.

'Oh how our mother suffered the loss! Have she no family pride or loyalty?' she demanded.

'How embarrassed father was at such dishonorable a marriage.' her triad continued on, thinking back to the last conversation she'd, had with her sister.

_"I love him Bella" Andy had said as she pleaded with her to understand._

_"There are many men of purer blood for you to love," had been her instant response. _

_"But they're not Teddy." _

_"If you marry him Andy you won't be my sister any longer."_

_"Does blood purity really mean so much to you?" her sister had asked her desolately._

_"It does" was her immediate response "And it used to mean something to you too," She added angry with her sister's hypocrisy.  
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_"Used to Bella it Used to… so is this your last word?" she had asked sounding both resigned, yet still hopeful that it was not._

_Bella had simply glared back in response, partly in anger but mostly because she was too choked up to say anything._

_Andy had sighed simply saying, "Then good bye Bella." With a hurt look as she swept from the room, the last time she would ever be a Black or enter their ancestral home again. The last time they would ever speak again. _

Andromeda had come to Bellatrix to tell her she was engaged to the foolish Hufflepuff Andy had been forced to work with in Herbology back in 4th year. That they'd actually been secretly dating for years. That they were going to get married! And she just expected her to except that?

Bella was close to Andy, the only one besides Cissy that she was so close to. It had hurt, it still hurt, and it would always hurt. It was a horrible stab in the back that went straight through to her heart. It would ache when she thought of her. So naturally, she made a valiant effort to never do so. Except no matter how valiant it was also in vain. Throughout her stay in Azkaban, she was forced to relive the betrayal, for, to Bellatrix it felt like her sister had died, and thus it was forever burned into her memory.

Whenever she thought of it her ever-prevalent questions were, 'Did we mean nothing to you?' And 'Was it really worth it Andy?'

Andromeda knew if she ran away with him, she would forever be dead to her. That being on the other side of the war, she may even be forced to fight her. Yet she chose him over her! Andy was her enemy, chose to be so; she turned her back on them all.

She thought of Andy and felt that horrible pang in her heart for her little sister the one she hadn't looked out for well enough. The one she hadn't protected from the polluting influence of that horrible Mudblood. She hadn't seen her sister since the estrangement, and she wasn't sure what she'd do if she did.

Now staring at this portrait thoroughly conflicted between what she felt and what she was supposed to feel she simply contented herself to get lost in the idea the mirror presented. Just stared at this fake portrait, she knew it wasn't real, it wasn't possible, her sister was gone, was no longer a Black, whether she wanted her to be or not.

Tormented with sudden thoughts of 'what if' as emotions and past memories swirled around her mind. She felt a confusing mix of contradicting uncertainty, guilt, sorrow, anger, betrayal, hate, and love.

Her hand was on the mirror before she even realized she had been drawing nearer to it, pressing her hand against it as though hoping to pull the portrait out.

She felt a powerful kind of ache half joy at the thought of her sister being a Black once more, half terrible sadness at what could never again be. How long she had stood there agonized yet entranced she didn't care.

Suddenly a voice whispered inaudibly to her, thrusting her previously discarded wand into her hands. Bella thought of ignoring the voice and tossing her wand away, it felt like an anchor to this world the world outside the mirror and she didn't like it. She wanted to stay with the mirror, as if it was her whole world now and everything beyond was useless.

But then the voice said "Lumos" a light glared reflectively off the mirror, forcing her to close her eyes. Just like that, she looked away from the mirror dazed, but coming to her senses.

The voice had belonged to none other than her nephew Draco, he had handed her wand back to her. He stood there giving her a sad knowing look and quickly turned away.

'Does he know? Can he see what I saw?' she wondered as she slowly stepped away from the mirror and toward the others who were around the exit waiting to head out. She felt alarmed, if he knew she still harbored feelings for Andy he could use it against her, their master would not be pleased. Panic seized her but the movement of her fellow Death Eaters forced those thoughts to die away as thoughts of the impending mission were forced to the forefront of her mind.

Later she would often think of the portrait. The one that was not real, the things that were no longer possible. But she never did ask Draco what he knew about the strange mirror. Because like crying, discussing weakness was just another thing that those of the Black family did not do.

** Those who were driven mad believed that it was neither.**

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**_Thanks to all who have read this, and double thanks to all who review! The next viewer of the mirror will be Draco Malfoy._**


	5. The Heart of Draco Malfoy

**Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended. I did take quotes from "Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone".**

**_Authors Notes:_****_ Well this took me forever to write, horrible writers block it actually became a pain to try to write this! Well anyhoo hope you enjoy. *Sigh* Oh also _**'writing' _**is thought where as **_"writing" **_is speaking_**. **_Thought I'd point that out to avoid confusion, granted pointing that out sooner probably would have been better...  
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**"What the Heart Truly Desires"**

_By Pink Bismuth_

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**The Heart of Draco Malfoy**

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**_"Men have wasted away before it, entranced by what they have seen or been driven mad, not knowing if what it shows is real or even possible."_**

**Of those who have wasted away….**

Draco stood there watching his aunt's eyes glaze over, hand pressed against the glass of a mirror with an agonizing look of… worship?

Yes, worship would be the best word. Blind admiration, as though that mirror held the answers to life, as though it were going to solve all her problems; if she only knew how to seep into its' reflection.

He watched and he understood, even felt an urge to join her. He easily resisted that urge though, as Draco knew he had a job to do, one that if successful would give him just what that same mirror had shown him not a few nights before. His thoughts couldn't help but wander back to his own encounter with this particular mirror.

He had been on his way to this very room feeling more and more nervous. He'd been trying very hard to fix that blasted cabinet but the thing was just wouldn't work!

His mind unbidden wandered to all the horrible things his master would do to his family if he didn't get this to work.

It just wasn't fair! Nothing, not one of his side attempts had gotten anywhere close to the old man, the cabinet wouldn't operate, and he was running out of time. And as if simply getting his plans to work wasn't hard enough keeping it a secret had become a challenge all its own. Snape wouldn't get off his back about sharing his plans and he was sure Potter _knew_ something.

'Snape's probably just after more glory,' he thought bitterly, 'everyone knows he's one of the Dark Lord's favorites. Bet he was just _so_ happy when my father was disgraced, only _too_ glad to take his place, well I'll show him the might of a Malfoy!'

However, the young Death Eater was not always so confident. More often than not, his prideful mental rants would turn much drearier as he realized the seriousness of his situation. The internal dialogue would then take a much darker turn.

'I'm way too young for this! It's not fair. I can't do this! I can't kill Dumbledore!' were just a few of the thoughts plaguing him. They were always followed with 'I have to do this or he'll kill me and my parents.' as well as 'you can't or you just don't want to?'

The boy was distracted; he was nervous he was sure he would fail, but certain that he couldn't handle the consequences if he did!

Suffice to say Draco Malfoy was having a very stressful year.

Therefore, when a resounding crash, echoed throughout the previously quiet halls and revealed another presence nearby, he was understandably distracted from his internal struggle with a jolt.

For a second he had forgotten how to breathe. It was one of those moments where time seems to freeze. His mind just wouldn't work, and then suddenly it was screaming.

'SOMEONE IS FOLLOWING ME! THEY KNOW WHAT I'M UP TO! MY PARENTS WILL BE KILLED! I'M GOING TO GO TO AZKABAN!' With the continued mantra of, 'THEY KNOW! THEY KNOW! THEY KNOW!'

Who exactly _they_ were and just what specifically they _knew_ he hardly had time to question, he just assumed the worst.

So caught up in his guilt and so panicked by the idea of getting caught his cunning Slytherin mind could only come up with one possible solution.  
And so without a second thought the proud Malfoy heir ran for it. He bolted through the halls with no particular direction in mind, because quite truthfully he was feeling as though he were on the verge of a nervous breakdown.

Now anyone whose had to beat feet in retreat before will tell you that said feet will turn traitor, and take you exactly where you _don't_ want to go. The feet of Draco Malfoy were no exception. It wasn't until he had just barely lost his pursuer, and started to calm down that he realized precisely where he was.

Right outside the room of requirement, the door to the room where everything's hidden already materialized. Standing in front of that door, he couldn't help but feel as though it were a giant neon sign saying **"Guilty, Murdering Death Eater Right Here!"** with an arrow pointing at himself. He was properly dismayed; he couldn't believe he was foolish enough to have actually led whoever was chasing him to here of all places!

'What am I a Gryffindor?' he chastised himself for his stupidity, but then realized that whoever was following him would turn that corner any minute and find him. Further cursing his own foolishness he had no choice but to try to take refuge in the room; the hall was far too long there was no way he'd lose them a second time.

Thus in the room with it's now familiar towering walls of rubbish, he hid in the shadows behind a large bookcase facing the door with baited breath.

In those few moments of anticipation and silence, he couldn't help but question if maybe, just maybe a small insignificant part of him wanted to get caught. He quickly shoved that thought away however as the door was whipped open. His pursuer entered the room wand at the ready the faint glow of wand light revealing a distinctly female heart shaped face and brown mousy hair. He didn't recognize her.

She stepped cautiously through the room, peering about clearly searching for him. Luckily for Draco with only the moon light coming in through the windows and her own lit up wand it was rather hard to make out anything in the darkness.

Draco watched, eyes straining in the dark, mentally begging her to just leave. His heart was beating a mile a minute and so loudly, he was surprised she couldn't hear it. All his mental begging seemed for naught as she drew ever nearer to his hiding place.

As he made to move, his arm brushed against a book that had multiple pages sticking out making a rustling noise as he did so. He froze for a split second, than darted back completely behind the bookshelf. Readying himself for the impending chase and/or confrontation, he was quite shocked when nothing happened.

Curious, he peeked around the shelf only to find her staring at a mirror. He was sure he must have missed something. Since when did mirrors cause people to react _that_ way?

First, she gasped and seemed shocked by what she saw. Then she whispered something and looked around as though expecting to find someone behind her. When finding no one she looked back, getting this bitter, annoyed look on her face as though the mirror was making fun of her. If that wasn't enough her annoyance turned to shock yet again which was somehow caused by... her hair? Then she started crying! After that, she got this faraway look in her eye. She than stood there for what felt like hours until finally she backed away as if the mirror had bitten her.

Next thing he knew, she nearly gave him a heart attack as she suddenly broke the silence by shouting very loudly, "Remus J. Lupin will someday marry me! He will wear a dopey grin and we will be deliriously happy!" and apparently that wasn't odd enough so, her hair changed bright pink and she stomped out the room seemingly forgetting all about him.

His first thought was 'What the fu-' but then what she said struck him. 'Remus J. Lupin as in Professor Lupin the werewolf Ex-DADA teacher?' and then he wondered, 'how did she turn her hair pink like that?'

Now completely confused, he wasn't so worried about not being caught as figuring out just what exactly all that was about. He walked over to the mirror that had such odd effects on that strange woman. He examined it hoping to find answers.

Whatever he had expected to see, what he saw was not it.

There in that mirror stood his family. His mother, father, and himself all smiling and waving happily at him. Much like the previous viewer of the mirror, his eyes widened in shock and he too turned around expecting to see his parents behind him. They were of course not there.

It then occurred to him that he wasn't smiling. So why was his reflection smiling? Having thus established that this mirror was not normal he began to wonder what was going on.

Upon closer inspection, he noted that his parents looked younger, happier then he'd seen them in a long time. His mother, his beautiful mother, was smiling _so_ unguardedly with her arms wrapped around him.

Draco loved his mother, and would never call her cold, but at the same time even Narcissa Malfoy's own son wouldn't call her a warm, loving person, or at least not publicly so. She'd never cling to him like that and never smile so widely like that. It just wasn't done. That being said a small part of Draco wished she would.

He let out a sigh and turned to closer study his father, who was also smiling in a very uncharacteristically open way. He had an arm around his mother's waist and was… was it possible?

Yes, there was undeniable pride in his eyes as he looked down at Draco. It was the pride he had always craved, but never seemed to have earned. They all just smiled and waved at him practically beckoning him to join them if only he could.

He felt, much like so many others, a most powerful ache inside. Half joy at what he saw and half terrible sadness for what he did not have.

He simply stood there completely entranced by it, wishing with all he had that it might be true. That he could make that happen. Then it all clicked. He could make that happen! Would make that happen! He'd do the task assigned to him; he'd fix that cabinet, off the old man, and restore his family! His father would be proud of him and his mother though still guarded with her happiness would be happy all the same.

He stepped away from the mirror thinking, 'This image isn't real, but I can make it possible!'

He finished fixing the cabinet the very next night.

So now, here he was executing his plans. Minutes away from making it possible. Seeing his Aunt Bellatrix fall victim to the same mirror had momentarily distracted him though.

'What does she see?' he wondered.

It seemed to affect her even more than it did him.

'This mirror is like a drug.' he thought, shuddering, suddenly feeling it would be best to get away from it before it drew him in as well.

He saw her discarded wand, picking it up; he tried to distract her from the mirror. However, handing her, her wand seemed only to upset her. Draco knew his Aunt's wasn't all there to begin with but the mirror seemed to really have a hold on her.

Without even thinking, he whispered "Lumos," lighting his wand and thankfully breaking her gaze from the mirror.

She seemed so lost for a second there and he sadly thought 'I know how you feel,' but quickly turned away. Seeing she was okay now he headed for the door now focused completely on the task ahead. His only thought being, 'I will make it possible!'

**Those who are entranced know that it's not real but that it may be possible.**

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**_Thanks to all who have read this, and double thanks to all who review! The next viewer of the mirror will be Fred Weasley._**


	6. The Heart of Fred Weasley

**Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or any of the characters. They belong to J. K. Rowling (and I hate her for it). I did however take a quote from "Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone" and obviously, she owns it.**

**_Authors Note: _**_Right well, I'd lost the inspiration to write or really do much of anything creative for quite awhile, but inspiration seemed to hit me in the side of the head with a frying pan yesterday so I wrote this out. I'm not sure how happy I am with it, but it'll do. Oh I'd also liked to thank those who have reviewed it really makes my day. And sorry Sparkleshine but although I have some interesting ideas for what McGonagall, Crookshanks, and Dobby would see I don't think I'd be able write it and do it justice. Nor could I fit it into the story._

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**"What the Heart Truly Desires"**

_By Pink Bismuth_

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_**The Heart of Fred Weasley**

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**_"The happiest man on earth would be able to use the mirror of erised like a normal mirror, that is he would look into it and see himself exactly as he is."_**

Fred Weasley solemnly swears that Severus Snape was up to no good! Over the years, Fred and George Weasley had seen some very strange things. It was, as all good pranksters knew an occupational hazard when dabbling in the things that pranksters do.

Suffice to say it was not very often that anything truly fazed the Weasley twins by merely being unexplainable, strange, or impossible. When ones mission in life was to cause as much chaos as possible while breaking as many rules as one can get away with it seems inevitable that the rules of reality would similarly be disregarded.

Yet just now, he had decided then and there, that what he just witnessed would forever be the most stunning moment of earth shattering unreality he would ever experience. Truthfully, he knew he was being over dramatic, that he had witnessed some amazingly odd things and would doubtlessly see more in the future.

Nevertheless, for now all he could do was try to digest that Severus Snape! _The_ Giant Greasy Git! _The_ Bat Ruler of the Slimy Slytherin Snakes, classroom bully in teachers clothing, the man who makes first years cry for fun had just, well….

"He just let me go?" Fred questioned the empty room, jumping slightly at his own voice breaking the silence. His hands then shot up to cover his mouth as though expecting Snape to jump out and deduct points. Once calming down he decided that he was really alone and let his confused mind rant.

'He let me off! No points taken, no detentions, no condescending speeches about the incompetence of all Gryffindors! No insults of any kind! What does it all mean? What's going on here!' With no answers forthcoming, he tried to calm himself once again and figure out what had just happened.

Had it been an odd case of mercy or oversight it would have been weird but at least he could have written it off as the circumstances of a strange day. That would not have been so shocking he had strange days all the time. But no, the man had not just settled for mildly alarming, he went and did what Fred didn't think Snape knew how to do.

He smiled!

A real smile mind you not just his creepy 'I'm going to kill you, turn you into potions ingredients, and they'll never find your body' smile. Or the 'Kicking you when your down is almost as fun as kicking puppies' smile. Or even the 'I could kill you but your futile struggle amuses me' smile.

No this one was happy, it was real, it light up his eyes with dare he say _mischief_? What was going on here! It was scary; it was strange it was wrong.

'It was all so WRONG!' Fred's mind continued to protest as he thought back to the smile. He could see it in his head and no matter which way he looked at it, he couldn't find a way to explain it.

Of course, the smiling wasn't even the weirdest, craziest, part of this whole incident.

Upon further inspection, Fred had to admit that at the time he was too stunned to even process what was happening, but now after the shock had dulled down to hyperactive confusion his mind unbidden reviewed the events leading up to this…. This... Well there really was no other word for it but distortion of reality.

The day had started out like any other day for Hogwarts Mischief Maker Fred Weasley. He and George had pushed that git Montague into the broken vanishing cabinet on the first floor when he'd tried to take points from them. It had been a laugh but it also reminded them that they had business to take care of.

Forge and Gred had been using the room of requirement as a storage space for some of their more explicit products ever since Harry had told them how the room worked for the D.A. Now that the jig was up, they had to move them fast just in case the she-toad or her toadies figured out how to work the room. The inquisitorial squad now knew the general location of the entrance; who knows just what the pimple faced sneak may have let slip. Fred could have sworn he'd seen Malfoy eying the wall where the room materializes as though trying to figure it out. It made Fred distinctly concerned.

Therefore, it was thus decided that Fred should go collect their things. As it stands, they would need them for the prank war they'd declared against Umbitch anyways.

They went their separate ways, it never being a good idea to both be missing from the public eye at the same time, as that too often aroused suspicion and sometimes panic. Not to mention George had class with McGonagall and it was best not to skip her class, as she would actually investigate why they were missing.

He made his way towards his destination in a demeanor that was perhaps a bit edgier then necessary. He just had this feeling that something was off today. Looking back, he couldn't help but agree with the assessment that a lot of things were off today, even if he hadn't known it at the time.

What many may ask Fred is just why he chose to collect said pranking materials in broad day light when it was so easy to get caught?

Well in response, he'd have called you an amateur.

One of the first mistakes an inexperienced mischief-maker makes is trying to pull everything off at night. Oh sure if you're in possession of an invisibility cloak like Harry then the night time is the right time.

If however you are just a normal, perfectly visible student, you're more than likely to get spotted. There are a hundred and three portraits total in Hogwarts, they, the prefects, the patrolling teachers, Filch, and his horrid cat are all security measures you'd have to get past.

So now ask yourself this; would you like to skip sleeping to tromp suspiciously through dark hallways, while on the constant look out for the curfew enforcers? Or would you rather skive off classes, which is against the rules but not nearly as suspicious while everyone most importantly the teachers are all distracted with said classes?

No indeed daytime was Fred's favorite time to operate; he usually left night work to George. So despite his feelings of unease he was as confident as ever. He had no doubt in his ability to sneak their things from their hiding place and make it to lunch without arousing any suspicion.

Unfortunately despite all his experience in the art of sneak, fate was not on his side today as he was spotted by someone who was well versed in the art of stealth and supposed to be teaching the afore mentioned classes. For all Fred's experience as a prankster it would seem he was no match for Snape as he had not the slightest idea he was being followed until the door of the room was slammed opened. Automatically he knew it was Snape. He hadn't seen him but no one else would slam a door open that dramatically.

Luckily, Fred had been obscured from immediate view while digging his things out off one of the many hidey-holes the room afforded. His reflexes had kicked in; quickly ducking further behind the tattered junk pile, he had scanned the alleyways of teetering piles of broken and damaged furniture trying to find a better hiding place or an escape route. Sadly, it was a dead end.

Cursing his own stupidity at being caught he replaced his contraband items back in their hiding spot. He had taken a deep breath and prepared to surrender hoping to lead Snape away from the prank products so that George could try to get them later. However, when he peeked over the corner of the well graffiti-covered dresser he was stationed behind to try to evaluate just how much trouble he was in things started getting weird.

What he expected to see was an angry, smug, vengeful, git of a professor. What he actually saw was a sad, broken, crying, man staring hypnotized at a giant mirror as if it were a lifeline.

'Is…is that…is he… is he crying?' questioned an incredulous Fred.

All he could think was 'Snape was crying!' Or going to cry, really it was hard to tell from where Fred had been standing. His eyes were all misty though, it was all so wrong!

What seemed like ages passed by as his professor stared at the mirror. Right when Fred was sure he could take no more waiting he accidentally knocked something over. The noise seemed to snap Snape out of his staring match with the mirror. He then seemed to remember that Fred was in there somewhere hiding. At that point, Fred was having a panic attack picturing what Snape would do to him knowing he'd just witnessed… whatever all that was a moment ago. Snape turned back to look at the mirror again and then he…

'Then he smiled?' Fred's mind stopped it's reminiscing for a moment as it stumbled on the image of smiling Snape, shuddering at the image of wrongness. He then traitorously noted that Snape was in fact human and was _maybe_, _sort of_, entitled to smile if he wanted to, and that _perhaps_ he'd try to remember that in the future.

He then remembered wondering when the precursor to smiling had become crying? And since when Snape did either, which set him back to remembering the ludicrous thoughts his imaginative mind had come up with at the time.

'This is so wrong!' Fred had mentally shouted. 'Snape's not allowed to cry or smile! It's against the rules! It's just not right!' he continued to ramble in his head. He questioned if Snape was trying to destroy the fabric of reality or if the word had suddenly started to spin in the other direction. It was just one of those unreal moments in which you're just so shocked your brain short circuits.

Fred lost himself in a dazed mental tangent contemplating Snape trying to destroy the world with smiles hardly sparing his teacher any mind. That is until he was dragged from his stupor by said smiling Professor who was at the door preparing to leave. His parting words being, "I do hope no one takes advantage of the fact that Headmistress Umbridge will be thoroughly distracted for the next hour or so and pulls off some sort of prank in light of this distraction."

Just like that, he was left alone in the room stunned, confused, and a little bit scared. So now, here he was reviewing it all in a dizzying circle of confusion too stunned to even move, just staring at the door his Professor had just exited.

Fred took a few more moments to collect his thoughts before shaking his head dazedly and finally coming to his senses. He quickly grabbed what he'd come here for in the first place. A grin made its way across his face imagining George's reaction to this whole story and planning an especially good prank to do in honor of this momentous occasion.

'I doubt George'll even believe me though,' he thought as he made his way around the mounds of junk toward the door.

In truth, he wasn't sure if he should tell anyone. This whole thing seemed kind of private. On the other hand, he and George didn't have secrets between them. After a moment of debate, he decided he'd tell him but no one else, reassuring himself with the fact that as a whole they were one person, so it didn't' really count. He'd just come to this conclusion when he passed by that giant mirror Snape had been staring at before. Knowing he should be more cautious but letting curiosity win out he moved to get a better look at it.

He was surprised by what he saw.

He saw himself.

'Well that's anticlimactic.' he thought frowning at the mirror in disappointment. He didn't know what he had expected but just his everyday reflection wasn't it. The mirror didn't even give comments like most magical mirrors did.

'Why did it upset Snape so much then? Was he having a bad hair day or something? No wait everyday is a bad hair day for him. So what is it what am I missing?' he questioned.

He stepped back a bit to better examine the rest of the mirror. It was huge, it had an ornate gold frame, clawed feet, and the words "Erised stra ehru oyt ube cafru oyt on wohsi" inscribed at the top.

"I... show not your... face but your... hearts desire?" he read aloud.

He recognized the inscription as mirror talk, he and George had spent an entire week talking and writing in it to annoy McGonagall in their 1st year.

Staring at his reflection for a few more moments he shrugged it off with a muttered, "Must be broken."

He looked at his watch at the sound of his stomach grumbling loudly remembering that George and lunch were both waiting for him. Preparing to leave he stopped short as a slight shimmer in the mirror caught his attention. However, he didn't see any change in the reflection.

'Guess I'm just seeing things,' he thought as he leveled it with one last suspicious glance, something felt off about it this time. Nevertheless, he didn't really have time for this so he made his way to the door and left.

It was after he'd met up with his twin George in his nearly matching Weasley sweater that he questioned if it was really him in that mirror. Was that an 'F' on that sweater or had it been a 'G'?

Fred shook his head deciding it really didn't make a difference.

**But what makes him happy?**

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_Thanks to all who have read this, and double thanks to all who review! The next chapter will be a collaboration of the views ideas, the final chapter, and the answer to the age-old question, what does the heart desire?_**


	7. The Heart Desires

**Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, why must you rub that in!**

**_To Sparkleshine: _**_I would have just responded to your review by messaging you, but you weren't logged in when you reviewed and I didn't know if you that was your account name or whatever, so I didn't know how to respond, I'm so computer challenged I consider turning on the computer without blowing it up a personal triumph. Anyways I think Dobby would have either seen himself just as he is or seen the Malfoy's willingly giving him a sock. You know approving of him and willingly giving him his freedom. As for McGonagall, I think that after Dumbledore's death she'd see him standing next to her offering her a lemon drop and for once actually accepting it. As for Crookshanks, I know it's a stretch but I say go for the unexpected, I'd have him see Mrs. Figg. Mrs. Figg was a cat lady who had her fair share of Kneazles, maybe Crookshanks used to be owned by Mrs. Figg, and misses her. Though there's no known canonical connection, I think that would be the most interesting thing he could see._

**_Authors Notes:_**_ *Gasp* hell must have frozen over because I've actually written a conclusion chapter; I must say I didn't think I'd ever get around to doing it but here we are! Yay I actually completed my story, I now feel very accomplished! (Please note the sarcasm). Well I'd like to thank all those who've read this, put it on their favorites list or their Alerts that was awesome. I'd especially like to thank all those who've reviewed (or plan to review *Wink, wink, nudge, nudge*) it's a real confidence booster (which is kind of pathetic but hey I get my kicks where I can find them)._

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**"What the Heart Truly Desires"**

_**By Pink Bismuth**_

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Conclusion**

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_"It shows us nothing more or less than the deepest, most desperate desire of our hearts"_**

**The question however, is, what _do_ our heart's desire?**

Severus Snape was pacing furiously about his bedroom, wringing his hands in an uncharacteristic show of emotion. His hair was disheveled and his pale face was contorted with rage. Many people would say the anger was unsurprising coming from him, however if they knew who his anger was aimed at and for what reason they would be quite surprised.

His ire was aimed solely at himself; not for the first, and most certainly not for the last, as those few who knew him very well could attest. No, the truly astounding aspect of it all was the reason for these feelings.

He was currently scolding himself for accidentally injuring someone he didn't even like very much. Though not fatal, it would be permanent and despite his attempts at brushing it aside, he could not seem to let it go.

It really was nonsensical to let something so minor have this much affect on him. He was a spy, he had killed Dumbledore, granted that was on the man's orders but he felt it amounted to the same thing. He'd seen people die; he'd committed atrocious acts, so why was this bothering him so much?

Right now one of the Weasley brats, the unholy demon twins from hell, were most likely adjusting to the loss of one ear and he was feeling horrible about it.

'This is ridiculous!' he scolded himself, 'It might not have even been the same one I helped that day!' he argued, 'Even if it was, why should it matter? He's a _prankster_,' Severus thought the word with as much hate as he could muster. The hate was short lived though, as he continued defending himself, 'It's not as though I even meant for that curse to hit him.'

'It might not have even been the same one' he repeated.

His attempts at reassuring himself, however, seemed only to get him more worked up. It was odd, sure, he regretted most of the things he did as a spy, ordinarily, he would just brush them aside to angst over later with a good bottle of Scotch. Yet, all he could currently think about was the young redhead's face as his ear was cursed off, and the way he nearly fell off his broom.

Perhaps it was because the boy had caught him at a weak moment and had not told anyone, had not questioned him about it, or spread it around like so much gossip. Maybe it was because he'd accidentally let Weasley see him with his guard down, see the better part of himself that he usually kept hidden. They had an odd bonding moment, somehow, Severus didn't know why but hurting the boy just didn't sit right with him.

He continued to reassure himself that it was more than likely that wasn't even the same twin, but it didn't seem to help. It also didn't help that said twin looked just like Lilly's son at the time; he probably wouldn't have even known it was a Weasley had someone not shouted "George!"

After half a bottle of Firewhiskey (he was out of Scotch) his guilt was slightly appeased. His thoughts about all of this inevitably lead to remembering that damn mirror. At the time he wasn't sure what that mirror's purpose was, why it showed him what it did; but upon further reflection, it became clear. It showed him what he truly desired at the core of everything. It showed him what his heart truly desired and that was...

**...**

Fred Weasley was pacing furiously about the sitting room, stopping every few moments to look over at his brother who was asleep on the couch.

He winced every time he caught sight of his brother's ear or lack thereof.

They had of course joked about it, downplayed it, but it had seriously shaken Fred. His brother lost an ear.

'He could have died.' Fred's chest tightened painfully.

They weren't identical anymore.

'George could have DIED!' A lump formed in his throat.

Fred didn't know what he'd do if it had been worse, if George had died. Fred would have died too. They were two halves of a whole, a two-piece set, where one goes the other follows. To think that he could have lost him was overwhelming. It had shocked him, and it shocked him even more when he found out who did it.

Snape was evil, he'd killed Dumbledore, no matter that odd bonding moment, they seemed to have had before; he knew Snape was a murderer.

Yet it hadn't really registered until now; not until Snape had specifically attack his brother. Did Snape do it on purpose?

'Did he think it was me?' Fred questioned.

He didn't know why he was taking this so personally. Sure, it was _his_ brother who was hurt, but this is a war and Snape was a Death Eater. Just what did he expect?

He had never liked Snape; one moment of mischief was hardly anything. So he'd seen him act a little human and Snape had let him off once that didn't mean anything. So why did the thought of Snape specifically hurting his twin brother bother him so much?

Fred paused in his pacing letting out a frustrated sound as he fisted his hand in his hair.

'Just stop thinking so hard!' he commanded, 'Think about something else...'

Of course, the mind is a rebellious thing and when it puts itself to something, it's not easy to change. So while Fred wished to think of something, anything non-Snape related the best he could manage was thinking back to that strange day in the Room of Requirement.

He sighed in frustration but allowed his thoughts to drift away from these confusing emotions and toward that mirror.

"I show not your face but your heart's desire."

Fleetingly he wondered what Snape had seen, but quickly pushed it away as Snape was a topic he was currently trying to avoid. Instead, he thought about what he, himself saw, remembered seeing his own regular reflection, he wondered if it was narcissistic to be your own heart's desire. But he also remembered the way the reflection had glimmered when he thought of George. Had the image changed because he wanted to see his brother? At first, he hadn't been sure, but after almost losing him, it only made sense that he saw George. If that mirror really shows what the heart truly desires, and he saw George than Fred was sure that what the heart truly desires must be exactly what he got from George, which was...

**...**

Nymphadora Tonks was overwhelmed. She was lying in bed, staring at the ceiling, reviewing all that had happened that night. It had been horrible. Mad-eye was dead. Her mentor; the grisly, old, paranoid, consummate survivor had not survived.

Tonks was a big girl, she could handle the grief. She'd blown up half their living room, let out a few tears, and drank half a bottle of Firewhiskey and now she'd push past it.

'C-Constant Vigilance!' she told herself, he'd be disappointed in her, if she were to dwell on this when there was war to be fought.

Listening to Remus's light snoring, for indeed the werewolf did snore despite his protests to the contrary, she had forced herself to focus on something other than Moody. In doing so, she was reminded of the really strange interaction she had with two of her estranged family members.

Bellatrix's behavior had made sense... at first. Yes, the intensity of the attack seemed peculiar and Tonks was sure she heard her mumble something like "Your fault" and "She's gone" but that woman's so mad she probably muttered random stuff all the time.

No, it was the look in her Aunt's eyes when she almost got Tonks with a well-aimed killing curse that didn't make any sense and really stood out to her. Her eyes looked sane for a moment, clouded over with so much regret mingled with shock and horror, and something else Tonks couldn't identify. If she didn't know any better she'd have thought they were filled with relief when she saw her spell miss.

But that couldn't be right... could it?

'No I probably just imagined it,' Tonks rolled her eyes, 'That or the crazy bitch was just relieved the game wasn't over yet.'

It was really lucky that hit had missed, or rather lucky little Draco actually had a conscious. Her eyes softened a bit at the thought of her cousin. 'I really owe him one.'

The boy wasn't going to last long as a Death Eater if he kept trying to save people; he really didn't belong on that side. Draco had swerved on his broom, conveniently bumping into his Aunt jostling her wand arm before the curse was completed. If it hadn't been for that, she knew Moody wouldn't have been the only casualty that night.

'Don't think about Moody!' she commanded her wandering mind, tears beginning to form in her two different colored eyes, one brown, one blue. She felt movement by her side, and then Remus's arms wrapping around her. She smiled, pulling his arms more tightly to her, reveling in the comfort if brought. 'And he thinks he's a monster', she thought derisively letting out a snort, 'A cuddle monster maybe.'

Snuggling in further she thanked Merlin she had Remus, in fact it was something else she owed Draco Malfoy. If she hadn't been chasing him that night she'd have never found that mirror, might not have ever worked up the determination to achieve this.

"I show not your face but your heart's desire," she whispered quietly looking at Remus's peacefully sleeping face. It had taken her more time than she'd like to admit to figure out just what that mirror had said but eventually she did. Immediately she had thought of Remus, which was of course what she had seen. After thinking it over though, she came to the conclusion that it went deeper than that. That at the base of it all what her heart truly desired, what everyone really wants is...

**...**

Draco Malfoy was throwing up and when he wasn't, his body was still attempting to. He was shaking violently, he ached all over, and yet he could not be more relieved.

You may be thinking him crazy, and in the past, he'd have agreed with you.

Now, however, Draco knew that a few seconds under his master's Crucio for the general failure of a mission was _nothing_ compared to what he would have gotten; had his Aunt reported his 'accidentally' bumping into her for what it really was. A foolish act of mercy worthy of a Gryffindor.

'I am so screwed!'; 'Why did I do that!'; 'I can't do this, I'm not cut out for this!' he thought tremulously.

He felt himself getting sick again. That night had been a big mission, catching Potter before he got to a safe house. Draco still wasn't sure why he'd been assigned to go, he was still an amateur, and that had been an important mission. Had the Dark Lord really thought he would be of much use? Was he hoping the Order members would go easy on him just because he was so young?

Either way that was wrong on both counts, for the 'light' side they were surprisingly ruthless. Draco felt comfortable on a broom but not with several hexes trying knock him off. It had been terrifying and he didn't like to admit it but he really didn't want to kill anyone. He hadn't yet become a murderer and he had no desire to become so while airborne.

He saw Potter but knew it wasn't really him, he didn't hold himself anything like the real Potter and they'd be idiots to put him on anything but a broom. Then again, when they were all summoned to a single spot it had been a Potter on a motor bike and everyone seemed rather certain it was the real one.

Well if that was the case, light side really was quite stupid, sure, they had all expected Potter on a broom, but it would have been better to play to his strengths.

Loath as he was to admit it, Draco, after playing against him couldn't deny the 'Gryffindor Golden Boy' could definitely have out-flown them all on a broom... Of course he could, it was the only way to explain why Draco himself could not win against him. It was Potter's _only_ talent really, quite a useless talent, but then everyone had at least one thing they were good at.

The Potter his group had been attacking had been on a threstle, being escorted by the pink haired women he now knew was named Tonks. Apparently, she was his cousin as he had learned recently and she was married to a werewolf, 'Remus J. Lupin' if he was remembering correctly.

'No, no stop right there, you do not know a light sided werewolf by name! He's just the werewolf and she's not your cousin she's just a traitor!' Draco berated himself; he was only thinking these things, but with a master like his even his mind wasn't safe.

Hadn't he put himself in enough danger that night?

'Why don't I just get _traitor_ tattooed to my forehead while I'm at it?' He was starting to wonder when he had become so self-destructive. He blamed the pink traitor, who else did he have to blame? Certainly not himself, Malfoy's never take the blame only the credit.

Of course, she just had to be there, in all her pink haired glory. It seemed like her very presence had personally insulted their Aunt for she attacked her with a vengeance. Draco thought he heard his Aunt mutter "Andy" and "gone" but that doesn't mean much, his Aunt Bellatrix is crazy, mutters random stuff to herself all the time.

It really was all that Tonks' fault that he was in such trouble now, had it been anyone else, _anyone_, he'd have probably just minded his own business. He most definitely would not have 'bumped' into his Aunt thus throwing off her aim. He would certainly not have done anything that... that... 

_"Heroic"_ he muttered disgustedly, his head resting on the toilet seat exhausted.

No he really had no choice but to prevent her death, because... well, because she gave him hope. Crazy as it sounds, in an odd way she was proof that he could get what he wanted.

It was pretty obvious now, just what that mirror had shown her, and on that day, she had vowed much like Draco had to make it possible. Unlike Draco, she actually succeeded and the mere fact that she did gave him hope that he could do it too. She got her werewolf, so that must mean Draco could get his family happy and whole again.

If she had died that night, his hope would have died with her. It just would have been universally unfair. However, that wasn't his only reason for helping her; he didn't know how to explain it, but he felt as if he somehow owed her better than that. It was as if they had somehow bonded over the shared experience of the mirror.

"That damn mirror." Draco muttered tiredly as he climbed into bed. Draco figured it must show you what you most want, whatever your heart most desires, well it would seem both he and his cous- _the traitor_, Draco corrected himself, desired the same thing. Though that was not saying much as he thought 'We all desire the same thing, that being...

**...**

Bellatrix Lestrange was blowing up the contents of her living room. Her husband had long since given up trying to calm her down and went to bed, not that she cared overly much what he did. She was very... upset, yes, upset covered it.

She was angry because the mission had failed and her master was displeased with her. She was angry at nephew's obvious interference during the mission. She was angry that the traitor's daughter lived, and she was angry at herself for being relieved about it.

It was all very confusing, and contradicting and made Bellatrix want to kill something. Sadly they were ordered to lay low so muggle-hunting was not an option. She let out an enraged scream of frustration as she set fire to the curtains, minutely remembering to put them out.

'What is wrong with me!' she mentally wailed.

All she could think about was that pink abomination, this was all her fault!

They had been on such an important mission; they were to catch the Potter brat. Right off, she knew they were following the wrong one, she didn't bother wearing a mask, and judging from the lack of reaction it couldn't have been the real one. The real Potter would have tried to 'seek revenge' or at the very least react more strongly to the taunting.

She was about to switch groups when she noticed _her_, and all thoughts, and admittedly sanity flew from her mind. All she could think about was how this girl was related to _him_, the mudblood who stole her sister. How she was just another reason Andy would never again, be on the family portrait. She had only been aware of half the curses she sent the girl's way in a hate-induced haze.

She was viciously pulled back to reality, though, when she fired off the killing curse. Seconds before she finished pronouncing it, she met the girl's eyes. What she saw clenched painfully at Bella's chest, it jolted such a feeling of horror through her, she had Andy's eyes. Bella was looking into Andy's eyes. This, was Andy's child she was about to kill, she suddenly felt very ill.

But then relief that was even more sickening filled her when the curse went shooting past the girl, thanks to Draco's 'accidentally' bumping into her. It was a stupid, stupid thing to do, he's lucky she didn't report him, but she couldn't deny that nauseating relief she felt at not being the murderer of Andy's daughter.

It was wrong. It was all so WRONG!

"WHAT THE HELL IS WRONG WITH ME!" she shrieked loudly as she blew up the expensive vase Cissy had given her for Christmas.

It didn't make sense, why did she care?

'Andy's a traitor!' she reminded herself, 'Not only is that spawn of hers a half-blood, but she's married to a werewolf!' she continued, 'The world would be a better place if cleansed of such filth.' It was as her master said before, the family tree has become diseased, she needed to cut away the parts that threatened the rest, she needed to kill that girl.

Bellatrix raised her wand readying to break something else when she caught sight of herself in a mirror and paused.

Her hair was disheveled, her clothes torn and looking around the room it was in no better condition. Rodolphus had already sent away the house elves after she'd killed two of them earlier, so it would be a while before it was restored.

Sighing she fixed her hair a bit, staring at her reflection in the mirror. Suddenly her eyes widened, she gasped and quickly blasted it to pieces in panic.

She thought she saw the family portrait! It wasn't there though, it wasn't, she was just imagining things, she just needed to calm down. Shakily she sat down on what was left of their couch and tried to calm her breathing.

Her eyes burned; did she get dust in them? 'That must be it, soot from the curtains' she told herself.

This wasn't the first time she had thought she'd seen the portrait in a mirror, ever since she'd been ensnared by that mirror at Hogwarts it had haunted her.

"I hate that damn mirror," she whispered tiredly, as she thought about it, or more exactly what it had shown her. It had showed her what she truly desired above all else, she supposed it was what most people desired from the people they loved...

**...**

Whether they are a spy on a guilt trip, a prankster with a twin, a grieving Metamorphmagus, a Death Eater with second thoughts, or a regretful sister all their hearts desire the same thing...

**...**

**Acceptance**

**

* * *

**

_~The End~_


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